


5 Times Schofield fell for Blake (And the one time Blake fell too)

by malibu_island



Category: 1917 - Fandom
Genre: A cliche story set up I’m sorry, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Rating May Change, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malibu_island/pseuds/malibu_island
Summary: William Schofield has a big problem on his hands. He’s fallen for the junior Lance Corporal and all-round trouble maker, Thomas Blake.Here’s the 5 times that lead to his downfall and the one time Blake fell too.
Relationships: Joseph Blake/William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	1. Schofield and his Lunch’s Downfall.

Lance Corporate William Schofield does not like the newest recruit to the 8th.

Not. At. All.

Young, naïve and loud, Thomas Blake is now a rather _painful_ thorn in his side.

Day in, day out, the younger is brash, irritating and harsh around the edges.

He never shuts up with his silly stories or telling some insipid joke about one of the other recruits. It’s enough to drive him insane.

Try as he might, in desperation to get the boy to  _ leave him alone _ , he’s had limited success.

Blake crawls back like a forlorn puppy every time.

Today is slightly different, however.

Blake is absent when he wakes up and remains absent when the call for lunch goes out down the trench.

He is enjoying blissful peace and quiet for once and heads to the mess tent to join the rest of the 8th.

Schofield gets his food, something that looks like horse slop and the smell gives little indication to say it actually isn’t.

None the less, he’s hungry. He’ll take what he’s given.

Schofield barely makes contact with the bench before he hears a loud “Oof!” and turns a second too late to see Blake flying into his table.

Both him and the tray go flying - straight into the mud.

Schofield pinches his brow as Blake peers up at him from the floor sheepishly, the beginnings of an impish smile forming on his face.

It’s enough to finally make him snap and he throws the rest of his canteen to the floor in anger, stomping off down to the trench to get away before he levels the younger man.

Barely ten minutes later, the sound of wet footsteps alerts him to an approaching figure. 

His temper has levelled off enough to simmering rage, so when Blake finds him and quietly sits down beside him he manages to refrain from ripping the other’s head off.

Blake coughs and holds out his canteen and a flimsily wrapped cloth. 

“I’m sorry, Scho. I didn’t mean to, just slipped. Have mine.”

Will glances at him before taking the food and eating it. There’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.

Blake looks away and suddenly he hears the younger’s stomach growl.

Tom apologises and makes to leave, just for Will to extend his hand and drag him back down to sitting. He lets out a surprise yelp, confused until Will lifts up the load of bread between them.

“No, here.” Relenting, he rips up a piece of the bread and hands it to the _stupid_ boy, who proceeds to inhale it like he’s not eaten in a century.

“I’m sor-“ Tom tries to say through a mouthful, before he’s cut off.

“Stop apologising. And don’t speak with your mouth full.” Tom falls suddenly silent at the reprimand, meekly taking another bite of the bread.

For once, he’s got the other to shut up. Perhaps miracles _were_ possible after all.

Little had Schofield known that their little encounter at the mess hall had been the beginning of his downfall.


	2. Letters from Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake gets his letters home with some good news. 
> 
> But he doesn’t feel better for hearing it, and Schofield steps into to comfort.

Mail was always a welcome arrival in camp.

Blake in particular, looked forward to his.

He would babble on about the family dog, his mother, the nosy neighbour who’d been trying to steal the cherries from the orchards again.

William didn’t actually mind listening to the other incessantly chat when it came to the mail.

Mail came with a _reminder_, it came with _hope_.

_ Hope, that there was a life outside of this hell and the mud. _

_ A future for all of them where they had all they could dream of. _

“What’s the news this time?” Schofield asked as Blake read his letter.

“Mum’s said she’s met a new man, a butcher. Said he’s really looking after her and he’s got boys out fighting with us.” Tom said finally, not adding anything further before folding the letter pack into his pocket with reverence.

“That’s good.” He replied, all though he could see a glimmer of hurt in those big blue eyes.

“Is it good?” William added hesitantly, noting how poorly Tom’s expressions betrayed his true feelings.

“I just hope she’s happy, you know? Me and Joe can’t be there to look after her. Dad died of Scarlet Fever when we were kids so she’s all we’ve got. I worry about her.” He admitted and William felt a twinge of sympathy for the other.

For all that William had dismissed Tom as childish, the other seemed to  posses a profound emotional maturity that he had never actually witnessed before.

It made him want to truly comfort the other, like he would do with his girls if he could.   
  


“Of _course_ you worry. S’only natural, she’s your mother. I worry about my girls all the time.” He gave the other a gentle pat on the shoulder, hoping it would be the reassurance he needed.

Blake nodded and paused. Will offered him a friendly smile.

But then Blake looked up and fixed Schofield with this _look_.

It made him want to hide.

He looked desperate, _pleading_.  
  


“Do you tell them?” Tom asks, and before he can answer, the younger tacks on,

“Do you tell them you’re worried? I’m worried, not only about her but Joe. I’m worried none of us will make it home, that I’ll never see her again. I...” Blake trails off, quiet.

William takes a hold of his wrist and gently guides the other to a secluded area beside a tree, away from the others.

Blake looks ill, almost on the verge of tears and William can tell this has been brewing for a while.

“I don’t tell them I’m worried.” Schofield says, sliding his grip from the other’s wrist to his hand. Holds it tight before continuing,

” I tell my girls that I love them more than life itself. I tell them to be brave and that I can’t wait to come back to them. Best to leave those other things out.” He watches Blake’s face drop down to study the dirt.

Schofield debates punching the other in the arm, maybe messing up the others hair to take his mind off it.

But in the end, he sits down beside the other and gives him a proper, enveloping hug.

He knows he’s made the right choice when he can feel the younger Lance Corporal almost melt into it with relief.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not. I don’t know if the next shell that lands won’t take me out, or if I’ll be sent over the top next week.”

Blake wipes his eyes and nods.

“Thank you, William.”

“Of course. I just hope we can get back to them.”

”We will. I know we will.” He smiled, handing the other a pen to begin writing his response.

**Author's Note:**

> This took so long to write but credit goes to a-beautiful-struggle on tumblr who helped me along with encouragement. I swapsied by giving her the puppies and picnic idea. 
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
